Say No To Joe?

by Lori Foster

  “I usually eat out.” Then, with appreciation and a touch of weariness: “That sounds great. I didn’t know you cooked.”

  Was that sheet even lower? The material barely maintained his privacy, and what the soft cotton did cover, it didn’t really conceal. There were some clear bulges and ridges. Luna eyed his body and felt her insides turn liquid. Even with the dark ugly bruises, he was so damn gorgeous. His shoulders were sleek and taut and thick, his chest covered in that fine, crisp hair so that his small brown nipples were almost hidden. Muscles layered his rib cage, and even at ease in the bed, his abdomen was sharply defined. That teasing trail of dark hair bisecting his body and dipping beneath the sheet was finer, silkier, than that on his chest.

  Luna cleared her throat. “Grilled cheese is hardly brain surgery. But for the record, I cook. Nothing fancy, but I can read recipes.” She patted her fanny with both hands. “As you can see, I’m not starving.”

  One eye opened, bright with interest. “You’re a woman, not a little girl. You’ve got dangerous curves, babe, and they make me nuts.”

  He sounded so sincere, her pique evaporated. But how could she reply to that? She chose to change the subject instead. “You want to eat in bed or can you make it to the table?”

  Finally opening both eyes, Joe grimaced and took a critical accounting of his body. “I have to get out of bed. I’m as stiff as a spinster’s upper lip.” He struggled into a sitting position with his legs over the side of the bed. Luna gazed down the long line of his back to his tight behind—until he groaned.

  Her concern doubled. She’d always thought of Joe as invincible, probably because that’s how he thought of himself. He gleefully dove into danger without a single thought to personal risk, secure in his belief that he could handle anything and anyone. He played at careers that scared other men to death.

  Even the bruises hadn’t detracted from his air of impenetrable strength. But he was just a man, and right now, he was hurt. “Maybe you should stay in bed. I’ll bring the food here—”

  “I want to take a shower,” he rumbled in a low tone, while holding his side. “The hot water is bound to ease my sore muscles.” He stood … and left the sheet on the bed.

  Luna gawked. She couldn’t help it.

  Glancing at her as if he wasn’t buck naked, as if his body wasn’t a rock-hard sculpture of masculine perfection, Joe asked, “Can I have ten minutes, do you think?”

  Luna swallowed. And stared. And stared some more.

  “Luna?”

  He wasn’t quite standing straight, was more bent to favor one side of his ribs, off kilter thanks to his injured knee. He had a three-day beard shadow, unkempt hair, and eyes so blue they torched her even from across the room.

  He smirked and awkwardly lifted the sheet, holding it in front of his lap. “Better?”

  Luna pulled herself together. She wasn’t a wilting virgin. She’d seen naked men before. None of them had looked like Joe, but still … She went to him and took his arm. “Sit here and wait for me. I’ll get the shower ready first, then I’ll help you.”

  Joe braced one hand against the footboard, one around his middle, and eased back down to the mattress. He had his injured leg stuck straight out and he was breathing hard. After several seconds ticked by, he asked, “Help me, how exactly?”

  “I’ll get things ready for you so all you have to do is step under the hot water.”

  “Wanna scrub my back for me, too?”

  She almost smiled at the hopeful way he asked that. The man couldn’t move without gritting his teeth, and still he flirted. “Your back will have to go unscrubbed until you’re capable of doing it yourself. But I’ll start the shower and help you in. How’s that?”

  “I’d prefer you shower with me—no? All right, I’ll take what I can get. So far, all I’ve managed is to clean my teeth and hit the john. Anything more than that was impossible.”

  Luna stalled. “You haven’t eaten in three days?”

  He shook his head, drawing her attention to his hair. It was thick and black and silky. Without thinking, Luna smoothed it away from his forehead. Joe looked up at her, his eyes warm and aware. Their gazes clashed and held.

  She jerked her hand away.

  He was nice enough not to say anything about it. “The first day I stayed drugged and slept. The second day I was hungry enough to hobble into the kitchen but I didn’t have anything ready to eat and cooking wasn’t worth the effort.”

  Outrage filled her all over again. “What about the women trooping in and out? None of them offered to cook for you?”

  He raised a brow, surprised by her vehemence. “Not a Martha Stewart clone in the bunch.”

  “Your taste in women is deplorable.”

  He looked her over, and even in his present condition, he managed to put a load of sensual regard into his expression. “Oh, I dunno. I think I have great taste in women.”

  Unsure how to reply to that, Luna asked instead, “Where do you keep your underwear?”

  Joe drew back. “Forget it. I’d have a hell of a time wrestling them on over my leg.”

  “I’ll help you.” She’d never survive if he remained in the buff. In her entire adult life, she’d never known anyone so cavalier about nudity. Joe was as comfortable out of clothes as in them.

  “Spoilsport,” he accused, but added, “third drawer on the left-hand side.”

  Luna pulled out a pair of black cotton boxers, then went back to Joe. “Do you need help walking?”

  “God, I hope not.” He sounded disgruntled, then in pain as he pushed to his feet and slowly moved forward. “I’m too old for this shit,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Luna rushed ahead of him to the hall bath. She opened the door wide, then started the shower so it’d get nice and hot. She was just straightening when Joe limped in behind her, dropped the sheet to the floor and stepped cautiously into the tub without a word.

  Luna whipped around, giving him her back, but not before she saw him crowd his big body in under the steamy spray. She heard his carnal sigh of pleasure.

  Sympathy welling, Luna stepped out of the bathroom and went about finding a couple of towels and a washcloth. He spent several minutes just standing beneath the hot spray before finally soaping up a bar and scrubbing clean.

  Waiting in the hall, Luna fretted. “You okay?”

  “Much better, thanks.”

  “When are you due for another pill?”

  “An hour ago.”

  Of all the idiotic … She yanked the curtain part way open. Joe had suds in his hair, trailing over his massive shoulders and down his chest to his abdomen. Luna sputtered a moment—until Joe opened one eye and gazed at her quizzically. “You want something, honey?”

  “Why didn’t you take your pain medication?”

  “I was playing possum, remember?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Finish up and you can take the medication with your food.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  She snapped the curtain closed again and started to move away.

  “Do all wives nag this much?”

  “Probably.”

  He laughed, then said, “I’m done.”

  He did sound refreshed, at least she thought so. Keeping her face averted, Luna opened the curtain again to turn both spigots off. “There. Now I’ll just—”

  “Help me dry off?” He reached for her and soaked her shoulder as he braced against her to step out, grousing and groaning with every move. A puddle formed around his big feet while he looked down at her and waited.

  Luna hesitated, but she just wasn’t sure. She’d never imagined Joe asking for help. He’d always seemed too proud for that, too intent on being the big man. Was he truly incapable of doing it himself? With Joe her thoughts were always mired with conflicting emotions and needs.

  “That’s okay,” he finally relented, his voice shaded by disappointment. “I understand. Forget I asked.” He clenched his jaw as he bent to pick up the towel, then wrapped it
around his waist.

  Luna felt selfish and wretched and mean. She’d barged into his home, run off his girlfriends, asked him for an enormous favor, and he’d not once complained. He’d agreed to help her. For free. His only stipulation was that she had to understand up front that he wanted her.

  She did understand, because she wanted him, too. But contrary to his sexual suggestions, he was in no shape right now to do anything about it. He needed her, as much as she needed him.

  She reached for the other towel.

  Chapter Three

  Less than a minute later, Joe knew he’d made a serious tactical error, but it was too late now to retrench. Luna bent close to him as she gently blotted the towel over his shoulders and across his upper chest, along the length of his arms. He stared down at the top of her head while inhaling the flowery fragrance of her hair and the earthier scent of her body. He could feel her warmth and the soft touch of her breath.

  Unbelievably, his knees felt weak, so Joe widened his stance and braced one outstretched arm against the tile wall. If he let her get to him like this, the towel would soon prove inadequate covering. And she’d already made her feelings on his nudity plain. She didn’t like it.

  Or maybe she liked it too much. Either way, he didn’t want to push her too far too fast. She might just balk and walk out on him.

  Hesitating, Luna asked, “You okay?”

  No. “Yeah.”

  Lightly, she rubbed the towel lower, over his abdomen.

  He’d misjudged his own control by a long shot, he realized, as the old John Henry reared up to say hello.

  Of course, Luna noticed. Even covered by white terrycloth, a bobbing erection was a tad hard to miss. She made a face. “You really should control that, you know.”

  “Can’t.” Then Joe thought to add, “Especially if you’re going to talk about it.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “Don’t talk about your lips either.”

  She wasn’t offended. In fact, she laughed.

  Joe could barely keep himself upright, and Luna was amused. “My back,” he said, and lust put such an edge into the two words that he sounded horribly pained rather than turned on. He was used to being playful with women, teasing while keeping ultimate control. With Luna, he felt like a berserk marauder. He couldn’t even spell control, much less utilize it.

  She moved behind him … and hesitated yet again. Joe held his breath until he heard her say, “I’m wondering … Who is Lou?”

  Annoyance over the damned tattoo made him antsy. “No one.” He wasn’t up to relating a long, ridiculous tale at the moment.

  The towel brushed over his back, down the length of his spine. She’d dried his front with a brisk, detached purpose, but with his back, she wasn’t really giving it her all, was sort of lingering over the task. “I saw the tattoo when I first got here. It says you love him.”

  Joe choked on a furious wave of indignation. “Not a him. Good God, woman, don’t start rumors like that.”

  “I’m not the one wearing that sentiment permanently emblazoned on my rear.”

  Damn it, he’d have to explain after all. Usually, he didn’t care enough to bother. But no way did he want Luna to get the wrong impression. “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  She made no promises. She bent to dry his legs, and Joe thought he might strangle for a whole different reason. Strike this one from the fantasy books; it was too difficult to enjoy. “Louise was another marriage-minded woman I used to date.”

  “Was?”

  Talking helped a little. It gave him something else to focus on other than her touch and scent and warmth. “I think I may have cured her of those ridiculous notions. Now, do you want to hear this or not?”

  “I’m listening.”

  Joe closed his eyes and concentrated hard on the story rather than the position of Luna behind him and all the places she touched. Was she dragging this out on purpose just to torment him? It wouldn’t surprise him. Her three-month rejection of him, despite their shared interest, proved she had a real mean streak. He could actually feel her breath on the back of his injured knee.

  “Joe?”

  Seeing no way around it, Joe rushed through his story. “I quit seeing Louise because she got too clingy, even though I’d told her up front that I wasn’t into any type of permanence. Unlike Amelia, she didn’t accept that I wanted to remain a bachelor. She kept pushing and pushing. So I bailed.”

  “Meaning you stopped seeing her at all?”

  “Yeah. A month or so later we ended up at the same party. She was being nice, which should have been my first clue that she was up to something, because whenever things didn’t go her way, Louise was a real bitch. Halfway through the night she slipped something into my beer and I woke up in a damned tattoo parlor. I was stretched out on a table, my jeans around my ankles, and some wiry little weasel was writing I Love Louise on my ass. I came to before he could finish.”

  A faint snicker was heard from behind him, then Luna stood. She wore a wicked grin, but she didn’t laugh. This attitude she had of treating him like an asexual being grated big time, especially since he couldn’t return the favor. She was a sexy woman, and he knew it in every pore of his being. His awareness of her defied all reason.

  “All done, except for a few places that I refuse to touch.”

  Joe gave her a heated look. “Chicken.”

  “Just cautious.”

  Joe held out his hand, and Luna tossed the towel to him, then turned her back. Hastily, feeling a little self-conscious, Joe finished drying. He let one towel drop to the floor and shielded himself with the other. On top of acute sexual frustration, his every muscle pulled and ached. The hot shower had eased him, but not enough.

  He winced a little as he moved, and Luna said, “Let me help you get your boxers on.”

  “Forget it. Just keep your back turned.” He’d tortured himself enough for one day. If she bent down in front of him—a position sure to put lecherous thoughts in any male mind—he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it.

  With a modicum of swearing and a few stifled groans, Joe donned his underwear. Luna hovered at his side, not watching but still there, burning him, making him edgier. He hated to admit to his own weakness, but it was a good thing she didn’t want him fully dressed. Wearing jeans and a shirt would have been more than a little uncomfortable.

  As they headed for the kitchen and sustenance, Luna held his arm. He noticed that she walked slowly to make it easier on him. Though it was necessary, that nettled him too. Damn weakness. When he’d started this, Joe had planned to let her assist just to have her close. He hadn’t planned on actually needing her help.

  When the opportunity arose, he’d kick two asses just to prove to her that he could.

  “So what did you do when you came to and realized what was going on?”

  They’d reached the hall and were almost to the kitchen. “I was out of it enough that I tore the place up first.”

  “First?”

  He slanted her a look. “Want all the gory details, huh?”

  “That depends on how gory they get. I can’t imagine you hitting a woman or beating down an innocent man.”

  “Your idea of innocent probably varies from mine, but no, I didn’t hurt the tattoo artist.” Much. “Let’s just say he now understands that he should never touch someone who isn’t coherent enough to agree to a tattoo.”

  “And the woman?”

  Joe grunted. Far as he was concerned, Louise had gotten off easy. “She’s from a rich family, with an influential daddy and society mamma. Big into appearances. They think their little girl is so sweet and innocent. I think they have big plans of her hooking up with a senator’s son or something.” He shook his head, grinned. “It’s for sure they never pictured her slumming with me.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  She actually sounded affronted on his behalf. Joe laughed. “I’m not a mamma’s dream son-in-law, that’s for sure. I explained to Lo
uise that if she came near me again, for any reason, I’d advertise our association to all and sundry, and let a certain little secret of hers out of the bag. That stopped her cold and turned her real apologetic, real quick.”

  Luna’s eyes lit up. “What kind of secret?”

  Shaking his head, Joe said, “You want me to kiss and tell? Shame on you.” He maneuvered his body into a straight-backed kitchen chair. It wasn’t what anyone would call cozy, but it beat staying in bed, especially since he’d been in bed alone. Luna pulled another chair toward him so he could prop up his leg, and that helped a little. “Thanks.”

  She didn’t sit. She just stood there, arms crossed under her breasts, her foot tapping.

  Watching her, Joe grinned. She looked as cool as ever, but also determined. Why not tell her, he thought. It’d be fun to see her reaction. “Louise likes it pretty rough. She’s big into game playing.”

  “Sex games?”

  Tilting his head to see her lush behind, Joe murmured, “Give me a few days and I’ll show you.”

  A wave of warm color filled her face, and Luna took a step back. “I’m not that curious.”

  “Liar.”

  She ignored that to say with disapproval, “So she shared her sexual fantasies with you, and you’re using them against her now?”

  “She had my ass tattooed!”

  Lips twitching, Luna said, “Okay, so I guess you were justified.”

  “Damn right.” But he felt compelled to add, “Normally, I figure what goes on between the sheets stays there. And besides, I doubt I’d have really told. It was just a threat.”

  “Why don’t you have the tattoo removed?”

  The very idea made him shudder. “Forget that. It hurt bad enough waking up with the damn thing. And it itched for days. No way am I having it lasered off.”

  “A sensitive tush, huh?” Before Joe could tell her to quit discussing his ass, she added, “Aren’t you worried about what women will think when they see it?”

  He gave her a look. “Any woman who gets my pants off already knows what to think.”

  “Sorry.” Silently laughing, Luna held up both hands. “Forget I asked.”